


The Beacon County Welcoming Committee For Supernaturals (We Have Cookies)

by artenon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Banter, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, Steter Secret Santa 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28255173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artenon/pseuds/artenon
Summary: "There’s a pack that’s just moved into the county—notto fight us,” Stiles hastens to add. “They want an alliance. I think it’s a good idea.”“You’ve been in communication with them?” Peter asks. Stiles nods. “You. Not me. The alpha.”“Aw, are you jealous?” Stiles grins and elbows him lightly. “I don’t know, dude, they’re the ones who emailed me.”
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 35
Kudos: 457





	The Beacon County Welcoming Committee For Supernaturals (We Have Cookies)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wreck](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wreck/gifts).



> This is my steter secret santa fic for meggie-stardust on tumblr!! I had a lot of fun writing this fic, and I really hope it hit the notes you wanted <3
> 
> Thank you sarah, as always, for the beta!! And thanks cai for the title suggestion!

Stiles lets himself into Peter’s apartment, and is pleased to see Peter lounging in his armchair with a book. Coming over was a gamble—he didn’t know whether Peter would even be home, but he didn’t want to call ahead, because giving Peter time to prepare is setting yourself up for failure. Stiles knows that when you want something from Peter Hale, you don’t ask. You just do.

“There you are,” Stiles says cheerfully. “Come on, we’ve got to go.”

Peter looks up from his book but doesn’t set it down. “Hello to you, too, dearest.” His nostrils flare. “Do you have cookies in your backpack?”

“Yes, and they’re not for you,” Stiles says, refusing to be distracted by the pet name. He’s on a mission here. He stays standing by the door and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. “Now come on, let’s go.”

Peter still doesn’t move. “Remind me, where is it we have to go?”

“Fairville.”

“Hm,” Peter says. “And what business do we have in a small and unexciting town that’s a two hour drive away?”

“I’ll explain on the way?” Stiles tries, then pouts at Peter’s flat look. “It’s for the good of the pack?”

A soft growl rises in Peter’s throat at that. His eyes flare red. “Stiles. If you’ve done something and it involves the pack, then I’d better know the details _now_.”

Stiles waves his hand dismissively. He doesn’t know why Peter bothers with the posturing when he hasn’t scared Stiles in years. “Chill out, it’s nothing dangerous.”

He wanders deeper into the apartment, accepting that he isn’t getting Peter to come along without some explanation. Peter sets the book aside and stands, moving from armchair to loveseat so Stiles can sit with him. Peter leans into Stiles neck and inhales, possibly searching for hints of unease in his scent, but Stiles isn’t lying about it being nothing dangerous. Stiles drops a kiss to the top of Peter’s head before he pulls away.

“Okay, well, things have been calm on the supernatural front for the past several months, right?” Stiles says. “No monsters coming in to wreck shit, things have been good.”

“Don’t jinx us, now,” Peter says.

“Don’t jinx us by saying _don’t jinx us_. Anyway, people have taken notice. There’s a pack that’s just moved into the county— _not_ to fight us,” Stiles hastens to add. “They want an alliance. I think it’s a good idea.”

“You’ve been in communication with them?” Peter asks. Stiles nods. “You. Not me. The alpha.”

“Aw, are you jealous?” Stiles grins and elbows him lightly. “I don’t know, dude, they’re the ones who emailed me.”

He’s pretty excited about the whole thing, honestly.

Deaton told them something like this might happen, after they repowered the Nemeton. Like a beacon, the Nemeton would draw supernatural creatures to them. At first that meant danger, a constant battle against those who came with ill intentions, hoping to claim the territory and the power of the Nemeton. It seemed neverending. Shit looked pretty bleak for a while there.

Stiles secretly thought Erica and Boyd made the right decision, leaving before any of this even started, when their biggest problem was a single kanima on the loose, a laughably (depressingly) minor threat compared to the shit he’s now seen. But Beacon Hills is his home, as long as the people he cares about live here, and Stiles is always going to defend it. He wouldn’t dream of leaving.

But yeah. It was rough for a while. The biggest turn happened when Derek passed his alpha spark back to Peter.

“I never wanted to be the alpha,” he said. “And I don’t know what to do. It should be you, Uncle Peter.”

Scott was shocked. Stiles was shocked. Hell, Peter was shocked, though he did his damndest to hide it behind a self-assured smirk.

No one fought it, though. It was a testament to how much things had changed, and how reliable Peter had proven to be over the past couple years.

Under Peter’s guidance, they somehow stabilized the territory, just in time for the younger members of the pack to head off to college. Not that Stiles had even wanted to go at first, worried that the bulk of the pack leaving just as soon as things settled would put them right back at square one. And like hell he was leaving if he wasn’t sure his dad would be safe, never mind what his dad said about being older and _Stiles’s_ guardian, not the other way around, and also the one with a gun (and a supply of wolfsbane bullets from Chris Argent).

But they left, and it was fine, and gradually Stiles’s texts to Peter nagging for updates on the goings-on in Beacon Hills turned into texts rambling about his day and asking about Peter’s. Which somehow turned into flirting and a nervous first kiss during Thanksgiving break and an _amazing_ first fuck during winter break.

Now it’s summer, and the Young Pack are the first supernatural beings drawn to Beacon County who’ve come seeking alliance, not war. So yeah, it’s exciting. The supernatural is already basically an open secret in Beacon Hills after all the shit that went down, and with this new development, Stiles has lofty dreams of the entire county being a bustling supernatural community one day.

To that end, Stiles has taken his new role as the one-man Beacon Hills Welcoming Committee for Supernaturals very seriously. He’s going to give the Youngs a welcome so great, they'll never want to leave.

“We’re meeting them today. I made cookies. And pamphlets. And I can totally go without you but I figured you’d want to come, you know, since you’re the alpha and all.” Stiles bats his eyelashes innocently at Peter.

“You’re incorrigible, did you know that?” Peter says.

Stiles beams at him. “I did! So, are you coming?”

“Of course I’m coming.”

“Great!” Stiles chirps. “I’ll drive.”

“No, you won’t.”

It’s a point of contention: Stiles likes long drives only if he’s the one driving, while Peter hates riding in Stiles’s Jeep and refuses to let Stiles drive his car. Stiles decides to concede this time, if only to get them on the road faster.

“Fine. Go get changed. And don’t blame me for raiding your pantry if you take too long.”

He hops to his feet and angles for the kitchen before Peter can even respond. Behind him, Peter snorts. He smacks Stiles’s ass as he strides past and heads to his bedroom.

“Love you!” Stiles calls after him, and dives into the pantry, sticking his hand right past the dried fruits and beef jerky to the chocolate he knows is hiding behind. After all, if he’s not driving, Stiles is going to need his roadtrip snacks.

* * *

“Hey, get off at the next exit,” Stiles says. “I gotta pee.”

Peter throws him a scathing look. “You _just_ went.”

He makes no move to bring the car out of the carpool lane. Stiles would throw an M&M at him, but he knows how much Peter hates a mess in his car. It’s a miracle he lets Stiles eat in here at all. Well, to be honest, it’s probably that Peter knows he can’t stop him, and that a compromise is better than nothing.

“That was, like, an entire hour ago,” Stiles says.

It was not an hour ago. It was twenty or thirty minutes, tops. And it’s because Stiles got an extra large soda when they stopped for gas before leaving. He knew this would happen. Peter knew this would happen, and he gave Stiles a withering look when Stiles ambled out of the convenience store with his drink.

“I can hold my pee,” Stiles said confidently.

Peter’s glare didn’t falter.

“I’ll… drink slowly?” Stiles offered weakly.

Peter just sighed and gestured at him to get into the car.

Stiles did not drink slowly. He guzzled that shit. It’s not his fault, okay, if there’s something edible in his hands, he’s going to consume it. He doesn’t even notice until it’s gone. The only reason he still has M&Ms left is because he plowed through the soda first.

The cup is still in his hands now. Out of habit Stiles goes for another slurp, only to get air mixed with bits of water from slowly-melting ice. Disappointed, he chews on the straw instead.

“Peterrr, come on,” he whines, pushing his knees together.

“Actions have consequences,” Peter says serenely.

This time, Stiles actually does throw an M&M at him. “Yeah, the consequence of me pissing my pants in your fancy car.”

Stiles can practically hear Peter’s teeth grind as he merges into the right lane.

“You’re terrible,” Peter says.

Stiles leans back, already relieved now that he knows that, well, relief is soon to come. “That’s my charm point.”

“You are so terrible to me,” Peter insists, “the love of your life.”

Stiles lobs another M&M, just to be a shit. “And you’re full of it.”

Thankfully, there’s a gas station right by the freeway exit. Stiles is scrambling to unbuckle his seatbelt before Peter’s fully parked in front of the convenience store.

When he comes back out, Peter is outside and leaning against the side of his car, which isn’t too surprising. While Stiles isn’t a fan of long drives when he’s not driving, Peter isn’t a fan of long drives in general. Even if he didn’t want to make the extra pit stop, he’d of course want to take the chance to stretch his legs while they’re here. More to the point, though, he’s also eating Stiles’s M&Ms.

“Hey, that’s mine,” Stiles says.

Peter crumples the empty pack and saunters to toss it in the nearby garbage can. Seriously, who saunters to a trash can? Peter Hale, that’s who.

He saunters back to the car. “You deserve it for making a mess in my car. And also because I told you so.”

“You did not, you said nothing,” Stiles says.

“I implied it.”

“What, with your eyes?”

“Yes.”

“Wow,” Stiles says, even though it’s totally true and they both know it. “I don’t think I want to share these with you anymore.” He pulls out the Reese’s he bought on his way out of the store—Peter’s favorite.

Peter eyes them. “Well, now, you’ve had too much chocolate already. I’d be relieving you of them for your own sake.”

“Oh, for my sake?” Stiles repeats, grinning. “I mean, I guess I could be persuaded to share… It’ll cost you, though.”

Peter gets an exasperated-fond look in his eyes that means he knows exactly what Stiles is angling for, thinks it’s ridiculous, but will indulge him in anyways. And honestly, it’s stuff like this that reminds Stiles why he loves Peter. Sure, the banter is fun, but at the end of the day, Peter _likes_ Stiles. And Stiles likes Peter, too.

“What will it cost me, then?” Peter says.

“Hmm…” Stiles pretends to think. “How about a kiss?”

Even Peter’s exasperation can’t stop the smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leans forward to press a firm, sweet kiss to Stiles’s lips. Stiles kisses back, not too long, because they’re standing in a gas station parking lot after all, but damn, it’s always hard to stop kissing Peter once he starts.

“You’re such a dork,” Peter says when he pulls away.

“Your dork,” Stiles says.

Peter ruffles his hair. Then he snatches the Reese’s right from Stiles’s hand and says, “Thank you for the chocolate.”

Stiles pouts. “Hey, I said I’d share, not give them all to you.”

“You’re welcome, I love you so much, Peter,” Peter says in a completely inaccurate imitation of Stiles’s voice, and pushes Stiles towards the passenger side of the car. “I love you too, Stiles.”

Stiles goes with a laugh. “Okay, now who’s the dork?”

“Only for you,” Peter answers.

* * *

Stiles shifts his feet nervously on the porch of the Young house. He’s never met another werewolf pack in a formal capacity, and he really wants to make a good impression. Are there certain social practices he needs to follow? He probably should have asked Peter about that on the drive, rather than yammering away about the classes he’s taking next semester.

Before he can turn and ask Peter if there are any werewolf customs he should be aware of, the door opens to reveal a tall woman with dark curls of hair. “Hello,” she stays. “Stiles, right?”

Stiles channels all his anxiety into over-bright enthusiasm and grins broadly. "Yep, that's me! And you're Mrs. Young, I presume?"

"You presume correctly." She nods respectfully at Peter. "And you must be Mr. Hale. Good to meet you."

Peter shudders. "Just Peter is fine, thanks."

"He doesn't like being reminded he's old," Stiles stage-whispers. Peter pinches the back of Stiles’s arm where Mrs. Young can’t see. Stiles elbows him back.

Mrs. Young smiles but doesn’t comment on the exchange, and leads them inside, taking them to the dining room. Stiles hoists his backpack onto the tabletop and pulls out two tins.

"They're cookies for you guys," Stiles says. "There's peanut butter, chocolate chip, and white macadamia nut. I—oh my God!"

Forgetting everything, Stiles dashes over to the stairs where two very familiar faces hover at the landing.

"Boyd?" Stiles gapes. "Erica? What are you doing here?"

"Hi Stiles." Erica smiles at him, though she looks a bit nervous, which just won't do at all. Stiles pounces on her in a hug, and Erica makes a startled little noise before hugging back tight.

Stiles pulls back and turns to Boyd, arms already raised to hug him too when he remembers that although he and Erica made nice in the end, Boyd never actually liked him and probably still doesn’t. He's currently giving Stiles a flat look that throws him right back to their high school days. Since his hands are already up, Stiles pats both Boyd’s arms, then awkwardly puts his hands on his hips.

“So,” he says.

"So," Erica says. "After Boyd and I left, we eventually found Ada. She took us in, and we’ve been with her and her pack ever since."

"Wow, so what brought you guys back here?"

"The pack's expanding. Lana, Ada’s daughter, is expecting her second child soon. Ada wanted a bigger house in the suburbs. We heard rumors about what's been happening in Beacon Hills..."

A hand claps down on Stiles's shoulder. "Sweetheart, don't you think you're being unprofessional right now?"

"What—oh," Stiles says, glancing back at where he abandoned Mrs. Young. She's standing with her arms crossed, lips turned up in amusement. Stiles looks at Peter. "Oops."

Peter rolls his eyes and shifts his gaze past Stiles. "Boyd, Erica, lovely to see you again. I'm afraid I'm going to have to steal Stiles away from you for a bit."

Back when they were still in Beacon Hills, Boyd and Erica barely knew Peter, and so they have little reason to be wary of him now. Erica offers him a small wave, and Boyd nods his head.

Stiles lets Peter tug him away, but he looks back at them over his shoulder and throws Boyd and Erica a thumbs up. "We'll catch up later, yeah?"

"Definitely," Erica says, then raises her eyebrows and mouths, _Sweetheart?_

Stiles winks.

"Sorry about that," he says when they've reconvened with Mrs. Young.

"It's no trouble," Mrs. Young says as they take seats at the table, and Stiles digs into his backpack. "I'm sure you must be eager to reconnect. I was actually under the impression that you knew they were with us; it seems I was wrong."

“Nope, total surprise.” Finding what he wants in his backpack, Stiles clears his throat and tries to put on a professional air. Mrs. Young opens her mouth to say something, but Stiles, riding the momentum of his self-hyping, barrels forward. "Okay, so first I have this pamphlet with some of Beacon County—and particularly Fairville’s—hot spots, which, uh, admittedly isn't a lot. You guys have a roller rink, though! Pretty cool. Apparently they do themed nights." He pushes the pamphlet nervously across the table. “I have more copies if, you know, you want them.”

“Thank you, Stiles,” Mrs. Young says, eyes flicking over the pamphlet. “You put a lot of work into this.”

“Yeah, well, you said you had a lot of younger members of the pack, so… I wanna make sure you guys like living here, you know? Beacon Hills is a bit of a drive but I’m sure the pack would love to meet you—and see Boyd and Erica again, of course.”

Mrs. Young blinks, then shakes her head. “That’s right, you don’t know.”

“Uh,” Stiles says. “Don’t know what?”

“Boyd and Erica were hoping to rejoin the Hale pack,” Mrs. Young says. “It’s part of the reason we moved here. If you’re willing to take them back?”

Stiles manages to bite his tongue on saying, _yes, of course, oh my God_ , but only barely. As much as he does whatever he wants, he’s not actually the boss here, after all. He looks to Peter instead.

Peter shrugs. “I don’t see why not. I know my nephew has missed them.”

Stiles nods. “And Isaac.”

“What are you expecting in return?” Peter asks Mrs. Young.

Stiles puffs up indignantly. “They’re not bargaining chips, they—”

Peter puts a warning hand on Stiles’s arm at the same time that Mrs. Young smiles gently at him. “I wasn’t planning on using them as such. I remember how scared they were when I first found them. And as much as I’ve come to see them as my family, I’m happy to see them go home, if that’s what they want.”

“Oh.” Stiles deflates. “Okay.”

“I do appreciate that. Still, we came to discuss an alliance,” Peter says. “I’d like to talk territory and information. Also, Stiles has been training under our emissary, and he has a knack for defensive charms…”

* * *

“Hey,” Stiles says. It’s late, and they’re back in Beacon Hills, curled up together in Peter’s bed. Stiles sent a text to his dad that he’s staying with Peter tonight, which means he gets all the cuddles.

“What?” Peter grumbles, because unfortunately for him, Stiles staying over means he’s subjected to all of Stiles’s random thoughts as he’s trying to fall asleep.

“Am I your right hand man? Like, in the pack.”

“Does it matter?”

“Uh, yes! Because here I am thinking I’m the loser human in a pack full of werewolves and banshees and even retired-but-still-badass hunters and I’m just now realizing that hey, maybe I’m important!”

Peter growls and rolls over, pinning Stiles to the bed and depriving him of cuddles. Before Stiles can complain, Peter snaps, “Of course you’re important. You’re my partner—my _mate_ —and you’re brilliant. You’re not a loser, and I’ll kill anyone who says otherwise.”

“Whoa, turn down the murder,” Stiles says, even though Peter’s growly declaration makes Stiles feel kinda fluttery, because his life is just that messed up.

“I’ll maim,” Peter says.

“Mm, mild improvement.”

“Where is this coming from, anyway?” Peter says. He unpins Stiles, and Stiles scrambles to sit up next to him. “I thought we worked on your atrocious self-esteem.”

“Yeah, with you,” Stiles says, crossing his arms across his chest. “I know I’m important to _you_ , but… I don’t know that I’m very important in the pack. Corey, you know, Mrs. Young’s grandson, asked me if I was the alpha, which was frankly hilarious. Like, do I give that vibe? I said no, I’m not the alpha, I’m a human, so he asked if I’m the emissary, but I’m not that either, ‘cause that’s Deaton, even if he’s been teaching me some stuff. He asked if I’m your right hand, and I wasn’t sure but I said probably not, since I figure if anyone that’d be Derek. I mean he’s the only other born wolf in the pack, and he probably knows the most besides you…

“So anyway, then he asked why I was there, like, meeting their pack. I don’t think he meant it in a mean way, you know how kids just say things. I said probably ‘cause I’m your boyfriend, and he said Mrs. Young’s husband is her right hand. Which, I know the alpha’s partner isn’t necessarily the right hand, but I guess it got me thinking.”

“Thinking why would I let you do half the shit you do, like setting up a meeting with another pack, if you weren’t important?” Peter says.

“Well, that’s not really fair, you didn’t know about it,” Stiles says.

“Mrs. Young contacted Derek first,” Peter says. “Boyd told me. Derek explained that he’s not in charge anymore. Now, I wonder why he sent her to you and not me? Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’re my right hand and very important to the pack?”

“Derek did that?” Stiles says, surprised.

“Though I am miffed to think Derek assumed you would be more charming than me,” Peter says. “I’m extremely charming.”

“You’re an extreme asshat,” Stiles says, rolling his eyes. “But… cool. Yeah, I can dig it.”

Peter quirks an eyebrow. “‘Dig it’?”

“Yeah.” Stiles nudges him. “We’re a _power couple_. We’re gonna take over the entire county. Next, the world!”

“And this is why I didn’t tell you,” Peter says dryly. “Five seconds in, you’re already drunk with power.”

“And you love me,” Stiles continues, ignoring him. “You’re gonna let me do whatever I want.”

“I dread to see it,” Peter says. He tugs Stiles in for a kiss and Stiles goes, giggling.

**Author's Note:**

> How much of canon happened? Who's in the pack? That's for YOU to decide!!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you all have a safe and happy holiday season <3
> 
> [tumblr](https://qorktrees.tumblr.com/)


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